The Fantastic Murder of Lawrence Pearce
The following short story was written as a reply to a writers challenge. Lawrence Pearce (author of Hikikomori) posted the challenge on twitter and asked for them to be submitted to him. The result? My story placed on his website with a link to my twitter account. I have decided that I want to share it here as well.
The Fantastic Murder of Lawerence Pearce
Like clockwork, Lawrence Pearce enters through the front door of his favorite restaurant and sits in his favorite booth. He removes his black ball cap and places it on the table next to the salt and pepper shakers. He shifts in his seat to get comfortable then stares out the window.
Frank, a waiter and long time acquaintance of Lawrence is in the kitchen repurposing ketchup bottles when Chris enters.
“Frank.” Chris says. “He’s here.”
Frank looks at Chris with cold eyes. “Good.”
“Are you really going to do it?” Chris asks with a tremble in his voice.
“Of course, I’m not going to let him get away with what he’s done.” Frank replies. “Go take his order.” Chris follows Frank’s command and leaves silently.
Frank reaches into his pocket to make sure the vial is still there. It is.
Chris returns from taking Lawrence’s order. “Just like you said, he wants a club sandwich and a coke.” Chris walks over to Frank and leans in close. “Do you have it?”
“Yes. It’s in my pocket.” Frank responds.
“What is it?” Chris questions as he looks around the kitchen making sure the cook isn’t around. They are alone.
“I don’t know the name, but it’s supposed to be a very lethal and untraceable poison that causes a massive heart attack.” Frank explains to Chris. “The guy told me it was developed by the C.I.A. in the late 1970’s.” Frank pauses. “All I have to do is pour it in his coke and let him drink it.”
“Then what?” Chris asks nervously.
“Then he has a heart attack and dies.” Frank says sarcastically.
“Uh huh and what if it’s not untraceable?” Chris asks.
“That’s why I’m leaving and you’ll never see me again.” Frank says as he pulls the vial out of his pocket and holds it in his hand. His palms are sweaty and the vial slips through his fingers but Frank reacts quickly and catches it before it shatters on the floor.
Franks mouth is dry, his forehead is damp with sweat and his knees are shaking. Fear begins to rush violently through his veins as second thoughts begins to dawn in his mind. He pauses for a moment.
“What’s wrong Frank?” Chris is also afraid as he lives this moment vicariously through his long time friend.
Frank looks at Chris with tears in his eyes. “He killed my wife in a car accident that he caused. The man must die.” Frank says as he sniffs the snot that runs down from his nose and pours the poison into Lawrence’s coke. “It’s done. Now I take it to him.” Frank says leaving the kitchen.
Frank returns to the kitchen and watches as Lawrence eats his last meal. Within a few short moments, his wife’s killer slumps face first on to the table dead.
Frank quietly leaves through the back door.
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